Walk On
by Lost in Day Dreams
Summary: Reba and Brock have a little chat after their tumultuous couples' therapy session. Read inside for more details. Oneshot!


Hello again! I'm back with another oneshot. I wasn't really planning on writing this one, but I just got so fascinated with the idea that I couldn't resist!

Anyway, this story takes place right after the episode, "Couples' Therapy." If you don't recall which episode that is, it's the one where Reba finds out that Brock and Barbara Jean's therapist blames her for their marital problems, so she goes to confront him and ends up confessing that she doesn't like the fact the Brock is spending so much time at her house because she doesn't want to get along with him after he told her he made a mistake by leaving her. The show ends with the therapist asking if Reba and Brock still love each other, but Barbara Jean walks in before they can answer. Phew!

Anyway, there was a lot of very emotional dialogue in there between Reba and Brock that didn't seem like it could be forgotten that easily, especially by the next episode, so I just made up a sort of deleted scene between the two after the couples' therapy. Well, enjoy!

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Reba absent-mindedly hummed to the song that was playing on the radio as she drove around Houston trying to calm her jangled nerves. As she was doing so, she couldn't help but replay the words that had slipped out during the therapy session over and over again in her mind.

_Whatever it takes to keep you out of my living room, so I don't have to think about how it was when we were together, and it was so good,_ she heard herself say, cringing at the very thought. How could she let that happen? How could she let so much of what she worked so hard trying to conceal slip out at one measly therapy session? Heck, she wasn't even supposed to be apart of the therapy session, she just went there to confront that know-it-all doctor after finding out he had the nerve to blame her for Brock and Barbara Jean's problems! How could she allow herself to be tricked into revealing so much?

"Dang that doctor and his Harvard education," she muttered aloud to herself. "The sneaky weasel! It's all his fault!"

Yes, that had to be it. It was the doctor's fault! He had tricked her! He had used his sarcasm and clever questions to get her to spill her secret feelings to him and Brock! And then he even had the gall to ask if they still loved each other! Of all the nerve!

Reba felt her animosity for the doctor grow within her and welcomed it. Anything was better than the terrible ache she would never admit she felt, not even to herself.

The sun was slipping well behind the buildings toward the west, telling her it was time to head home. After all, if she was too late, the family would begin to worry about her (mostly because she provided the meals, but she liked to see the glass as half full).

But as she neared the house, she noticed that the lights were dim, usually indicating that the house was empty. Reba, too drained to park the car in the garage, left the car parked in front of the house and headed towards the front door. When she approached it, she found a note stuck carelessly between the door frame and pulled it out. When she opened it, she immediately recognized her son-in-law's messy scrawl.

_Mrs. H, Cheyenne and I took Jake and Elizabeth to the park and then we're gonna go out for ice cream. Don't worry about dinner, we can pick up something on the walk home._

_Love,_

_Van_

Reba let out a sigh of relief as she stuck her key in the key hole and unlocked the door. Not only did she not have to worry about dinner, but she would have some peace and quiet for a change, and luckily just when she needed it most. She walked through the door, hung her purse on the coat rack next to it, and, recalling all the things the doctor had gotten her to reveal, slammed the door with all her might.

The thunderous boom that echoed through the empty house helped some, but she found that it didn't take away the hurt she still felt inside. Leaning her forehead against the door frame, she broke down and wept silently.

"Reba," she heard a soft, male voice call out from behind her. She quickly wiped the tears away as she turned around and saw her ex-husband standing just a few feet away from her, a look of concern etched on his face.

"Brock, what are you doing here," she asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Well, I don't want to talk to you." Reba began to head towards the kitchen, but Brock quickly ran around the couch and blocked her path.

"Reba, please! We need to talk about what just went on at the therapist's office!"

"There's nothing more to say, Brock! What we had is over, it's done, I'm fine, goodbye!" She prepared to walk around him, but Brock quickly placed his hands on her arms and held her firmly in her place. Reba gave him a menacing look in return.

"Brock, let go of me," she said in a quiet, threatening voice.

"Not until you talk to me."

"I mean it, Brock. Let me go."

"Reba, I'm never going to be able to make any progress in therapy if I'm not completely honest with everyone I care about and they're completely honest with me. Now, talk to me!"

"No," Reba shouted in his face. She swung her arms in a circular motion and pushed Brock's arms off her shoulders, but instead of letting her go like he usually did, he resumed his hold on her.

"Do you still love me," he blurted out, keeping a tight hold on her.

"What?"

"You heard me! You never answered the doctor's question. Do you still love me?"

"You never answered it either," she retorted, trying her best to avoid answering the question she dreaded the most.

"Stop trying to avoid the question! Do you still love me?"

"Brock, please let me go," she almost pleaded with him, squirming uncomfortably in his hold.

"Do you still love me," he persisted.

"Please let go of me," she responded, tears of emotion welling up in her eyes.

"Do you?"

"Oh, of course I do," she exploded, managing to finally release herself from Brock's grasp, but this time she didn't run away. Instead she took a few steps back from him and gazed into his eyes.

"Oh," was all Brock managed to say. Reba sighed in a relenting manner and took a deep breath before speaking again.

"Brock, we were together for twenty years! Twenty years of what I thought was a happy marriage, full of love and beautiful children. But then, all of a sudden, none of that was enough for you, and you went off in search of yourself, leaving me behind to take care of the family and the house and everything. It hurt, but I always thought you would come back, that it was just some silly phase you were going through." Reba struggled to hold back the tears as she went on.

"But then all of a sudden, you just decided to through those twenty good years away and marry Barbara Jean. You just tossed them aside as if they meant nothing to you!"

"I was trying to do the right thing," Brock retorted softly in an attempt to defend himself.

"Maybe for Barbara Jean," Reba replied. "But all you're leaving did for me was make me wonder why I wasn't good enough to make you stay, and what was so terrible about me that lead you to the arms of someone else." Her voice broke with emotion at those last words, leaving Brock speechless with his head hung down in shame. Reba took a few steps toward him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"But even through all that, I never stopped loving you. I still haven't. It's hard to do so after you loved someone more than half of your life." Brock looked up and stared into her eyes.

"Reba, I…" he began to say, but she gently put a finger to his lips and cut him off.

"But I am trying to move on. I'm trying as hard as I can to stop loving you. Granted, you've made it easier by bringing Barbara Jean around all the time, but it's still very difficult, especially when we're getting along so well."

"Is that why you don't want me around as much anymore?"

"That, and I'm tired of losing at Pictionary," Reba replied with a slight smile, causing Brock to chuckle. That moment passed however, and the seriousness returned in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Reba," he said sincerely. "I'm sorry for everything." Reba gazed at him for a few seconds more, not know how to reply to that. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a hug, for which he gladly returned.

They held each other like that for a few seconds before Reba began to pull away. But instead of allowing her to apart from him completely, Brock kept his arms wrapped tightly around her waist and looked deeply into her eyes. Before she could say anything, Brock bend down towards her and kissed her softly on her lips.

Reba allowed this to go on for a few seconds before alarm bells began to go off in her head. She ended the kiss abruptly by jumping back and stepping a few feet away from him. She stared at her ex-husband with her mouth slightly agape, not knowing what to say or how to react. One part of her was furious towards him for engaging the forbidden act, but another part of her was just as furious with herself for allowing it to go on as long as it did.

"R-Reba, I-I," Brock began to say nervously, but she cut him off.

"Brock, don't. I know what you're going to say."

"I highly doubt that."

"You were going to say you're sorry."

"No, I wasn't."

"What," Reba asked, taken aback.

"I was going to say that I still love you."

"No, you weren't!"

"Yes, I was," Brock insisted. He took a few steps toward her, but she quickly stepped back.

"Brock, you can't do this. Not again!"

"Do what?"

"Hurt another person!"

"What do you mean?"

"You can't hurt Barbara Jean the way you did me when you left me for her, and you can't hurt me by building me up to thinking it's okay to love you again and then take it all away. Neither of us deserve that anymore."

"I know, I know," Brock admitted. "But I don't know what to do, Reba. Either way, someone's going to get hurt!"

"I'll tell you what you do," she replied, taking a few cautious steps toward him. "You commit. You commit to Barbara Jean and you work hard towards saving your _current_ marriage."

"But I still love you, Reba," Brock contested. She shook her head vigorously.

"That's not going to work anymore, Brock. When you left me, you made your choice, and now you have to have a commitment to that choice."

"But what if we can't fix our problem?"

"I think your problem is that you want to have it both ways. You want to be married to Barbara Jean but still have a relationship me at the same time. But that's not fair, Brock. That's not fair to either one of us."

"That's what my therapist said," Brock relented, hanging his head low again. He sighed deeply before looking up at her again.

"I never meant to hurt you, Reba," he told her, tears welling up in his eyes. "And I would never want to lose you as a best friend." Reba couldn't help but pull him into a hug again after that. She parted from him quickly, however, and patted him on the back.

"I know you didn't mean to and you won't ever have to lose me," she told him. "Now go home. I think it's your night to have dinner with Barbara Jean."

"Yeah, I think it is," Brock admitted. He sauntered over to the front door, staring as his feet as he did so. He was about to leave when he turned around to look Reba in the eye once more.

"I've never stopped loving you, Reba. I don't think I ever will." Reba nodded knowingly.

"I know that too," she retorted, tugging uncomfortably at her blouse. Then with those last words, Brock turned around and headed out the door to his new life that didn't include her.

Reba sighed somewhat out of sadness and somewhat out of relief. She knew it was going to take some time to stop loving him, and maybe she never would, but one thing was certain: she would move on and find happiness elsewhere, just as he did. With time she would be able to pick herself up off the ground and walk on.

"Pick yourself up off the ground and walk on," Reba said out loud in a contemplative manner. "That could make a good song!" Trying to form a tune in her head, Reba headed up to her bedroom to take the new idea down in her special songbook. Walk on was what she would call it, and walk on was just what she intended to do.

* * *

Okay, I don't know about that ending. Did it make sense to you? Well, let me know in your reviews! Until next time! 


End file.
